


Ashe and Caspar's Anecdotes of Fodlan

by lynnaria



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22732381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnaria/pseuds/lynnaria
Summary: Ashe and Caspar go on camping adventures.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Kudos: 16





	1. Rowe Territory: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyy here i am again  
> promise to actually finish this one, i have a few more chapters planned out, just need to actually write them!  
> each story takes place at different time, and they're all gonna be separated into 2 to 3 parts. Basically a bunch of one shots that take place in the same universe? if that makes sense? anyway, lmk if you like this or not!

There’s been something bothering Ashe as of late. He should be thrilled the war is over and peace has been (mostly) restored to Fodlan. He is relieved, but something trivial has been on his mind lately.

After leaving the monastery, Caspar offered to travel with him across the continent. He obliged, knowing that they had formed a special bond over the years. Really, he was ecstatic to have company rather than being alone. 

All of that was fine and good, but he had noticed that Caspar had been making him increasingly uncomfortable as of late. Not with his actions or his words, Ashe knew very well to take some of the dumber things he says with a grain of salt. No, it was discomfort for simple things like staring at him too long or any kind of physical contact that didn’t involve them on the battle field.

This was especially frustrating, considering how handsy of a person Caspar was. Ashe had somewhat of a knowledge about noble borns, but Caspar defies all of the rules he has learned. He was loud, messy, unapologetic, the list goes on. Ashe didn’t hate him for this, if anything it made him more comfortable. But he can’t help but feel like his stomach is doing backflips when Caspar suddenly slips an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a hug.

He used to be so comfortable with him. They would go to the sauna together, nap next to each other, eat food from each others plates, even get into playful wresting matches together, in their academy days. Was it just okay because they were kids back then? That was probably it. It's a bit odd to grow up away from someone. He didn't even recognize Caspar when they reunited during the millennium festival. He knew his bright blue hair marked him as a Bergliez, but he was much too tall, much too well built to be the one he knew. He had suspected it was his brother, or something. It wasn't until he heard his shrill voice that he realized it was the boy he once knew.

Besides that small issue, things were good. His siblings were under care of the staff at Castle Gaspard. Though he still worried, he knew they would provide good care to them. Still, he did visit them at least once every couple of months, with no objections from Caspar. He could always return to the castle, become a diplomat and take the kingdoms matters into his own hands, but he had decided that someone as young as himself should have time to adventure for awhile. Especially considering how straining the war had been on him.

Caspar, on the other hand, didn't seem to have any intention of returning to his home territory. He had gone back home once, all alone. Ashe was careful not to pry to much into his personal affairs, but Caspar had stated that home felt "empty" and brought his mood down. Ashe could sympathize, he was aware that Count Bergliez had given up his life when in battle. Ashe had lost both his biological and his adopted father, and he knows it's hard to go back to seeing everything normally after that. While he wanted to give support, Caspar brushed him off, saying that "it doesn't matter, I'm the second son anyway, there's nothing left for me to do there." 

So, they became travelling mercenaries. It was pretty exhilarating, leaving your family, your life, your money behind to travel and fight for coin. He had his anxieties at first, but he was getting used to this lifestyle. 

While most people would prefer to sleep at an inn, the two much preferred camping outside. It was nice. Brought him back to his youth. The good parts of his youth, at least. 

There was a loud banging, Ashe looked behind him. Caspar was hammering the stake into the ground with a somewhat large rock.

"Remember not to push it down to far like last time! We could barely get those things out of the ground when you did that." Ashe directs him.

"Hey, that wasn't my fault! We just couldn't get them out cause the soil was really clay-y." He argues.

Ashe sighs. "Whatever, just make sure they'll come out later. I still have dirt under my fingernails from digging last time." 

Caspar nods, returning to his task. 

The tent looks nice once it's all assembled. It was a gift from Mercedes, she'd sewn the whole thing for them using the strongest cloth she could find. It was awfully heavy, but it protected them from the wind and the rain. 

They were currently in Rowe territory, Caspar had a surprising passion for mountain climbing, and wanted to see the peaks of Teutates. It was getting colder, with the Red Wolf Moon quickly approaching. Ashe had purchased extra blankets at the previous town, he was sure he would be able to keep warm, but worried for Caspar who, no matter what, refused to sleep with a shirt on. 

The first few nights go without a hitch. There's plenty of wildlife to hunt in the vast forests, and a river near by with clean water. While looking for materials, they spot a small village in the distance. 

"Maybe we should set up camp here? We could stay for a few weeks with a village so close." Ashe offers.

Caspar's eyebrows shift in scrutiny. It doesn't take long before he nods. "Yeah, at least we might be able to get a few decent meals." 

While Ashe tries his best to do what he can with the meat and berries they find, it's hard to have a good diet with no vegetables. Even harder to make it taste good without any spices. Oddly enough, what he's craving most is a nice loaf of bread. It's a quotidian thing to crave, he feels like he took it for granted when he did have it. It was simple to make, and probably the easiest food to steal. He had made a meal on bread alone on many occasions, usually not by choice. But it didn't keep well, meaning they couldn't pack it with them. There has to be a bakery in town to buy some from.

"So, do we go back and fetch our tent?" Ashe asks.

"Yeah! Let's run back." Caspar begins to sprint the opposite direction. "Bet I'll get there first!" He yells.

Ashe groans. He has to make everything a competition, doesn't he? Still, he doesn't want to lose, so he chases after him.

* * *

Ashe collapses, hands on his knees. 

“Haha! Told you I would beat you!” Caspar jeers.

”It’s-“ he tries to catch his breath, “That’s not fair, you got a head start.” He takes in a deep breath and forces it out.

”Mm, that sounds like something a loser would say.” Caspar puts his hands on his hips, smirking at him.

Ashe rolls his eyes. “Since you got here first, that means you can start taking down the tent first, too.” Ashe takes a seat on the grass, exhaling sharply. The air feels cold in his lungs.

Sure enough, Caspar begins to dismantle the tent, throwing the cloth in a pile and chucking the wooden stakes over his shoulder. Ashe stands up and begins to fold the material, stacking everything together neatly. After stuffing the materials back into their satchels, they began the walk back to the town.

The sun slowly set more and more as they got closer to the village. Caspar kept his brain occupied, telling Ashe various stories about random men he had fought for little to no reason. Apparently he had a record of wins and losses scrawled into his bedroom wall back at the monastery.

There comes a point when the both of them stop.

"It's getting really dark..." Ashe says.

"It's only about a mile away! We can get there!." Caspar insists. 

Ashe frowns. "We might be able to get there, but we can't set up if we cant see our things." 

"Ohh, good point." He says, quick to agree.

"I say we stop here, besides, if we're gonna be doing mercenary work, it's good to have our base set up were others won't find us." 

"Mm hmm, mm hmm." Caspar nods his head more, causing his hair to fall slightly out of place.

And so, they set their things out once more, assembling them for (hopefully) the final time in awhile.


	2. Rowe Territory: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote most of this one on my phone, so apologies for any mistakes 😔✌️  
> there will be one more chapter to wrap this part up, so stay tuned

The village did have a bakery. Thankfully, they had saved a lot of money from camping in the wilderness, meaning they had plenty to spend. Which was good, cause they've both ate about 5 croissants each in the past hour. Ashe is usually very frugal, but everyone has the cave and buy something nice for themselves every once in awhile, right?

"No, it's pronounced _croissant."_ Ashe says, trying to articulate as much as he can.

"Cwossan?" Caspar replies, mouth still full.

"Ugh, forget it." He finally relents.

Caspar just shrugged, stuffing the remainder in his mouth.   
  
The townspeople did have a mission for them, though it was nothing like scaring off bandits or doing bounty hunts. Instead the two found themselves scaling to the roofs of houses, nearly falling off many times.   
  


Caspar was standing on Ashe’s shoulders, trying to push himself onto the top of the shed.

“C’mon, Biscuit...” Caspar said, in a poor attempt to coax their feathered friend.

The local farmer had one prize chicken, Biscuit, a large yellow one that would lay 3 eggs a day, he said. Ashe questioned the logistics of that, but he was paying well to anyone who could catch her, and he wasn’t going to refuse. He heard heavy clucking from above him.

  
Ashe wasn't the best at heavy lifting, but Caspar insisted that he 'had a way with animals', and to let him handle it. Still, he knew this would leave his shoulders sore and bruised. 

Caspar cursed as he began to slip, desperately clawing at the shingles to prop himself back up, but to no avail. He fell, and Ashe buckled under the sudden weight, causing them to fly backwards.

Ashe landed square on his back, The ground was thankfully soft, but that wouldn’t matter as Caspar’s rear suddenly smashed into his face.

He yelped in pain, Caspar tried his best to get up, but was unsteady, and fell once again, this time landing on Ashe’s stomach, resulting in a loud “oof” from the other boy.

Once he regained his footing, Caspar turned around, facing Ashe now.

“Ashe, are you okay??” He frantically asked.

Ashe gripped his nose, which was now pouring blood down his chin. “It _hurts!”_

Caspar took his hand, helping him up to his feet. Ashe pushed the cuff of his sleeve on to his nose, attempting to soak up the blood. Caspar put a hand flat against his back, guiding him towards the towns medic.

The bleeding had subsided, and the doctor sent them off with enough gauze to mummify a person.

“Hey, at least I didn’t break any of your bones.” Caspar offers.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t, I was sure you had dislocated it at the very least.” Ashe replies, tentatively brushing his fingers against it.

“I guess my daily squats haven’t made me any less soft back there...” Caspar frowns and gives his own buttocks a squeeze, pursing his lips. 

Ashe chuckles.  
  
They were on their way back to the camp they’d acquainted themselves with, both sore from their excursion. A cool breeze blew by, causing Ashe’s hair to fall into his eyes. He brushed the strand back, suddenly realizing how cold his fingertips felt.

Looking over at Caspar, he can see him shivering a bit.

“Once we get a fire started, I’ll make us some stew.” Ashe says, “That should warm us both up.” He adds, with a smile.

Caspar is usually the one who starts fires. He likes it a bit _too_ much, Ashe thinks. He hopes Caspar never loses control and becomes a pyromaniac, or something.

It takes a couple of tries before the flint starts to send sparks. They eventually hit the kindling twigs. Ashe lightly blows on them, encouraging the flames to fight back. The fire quickly grows, bringing warmth with it.   
  
Ashe lets it rest before putting a cast iron pot over the flame. He puts in the vegetables first, along with a flask full of water and a few peppercorns.

The end result isn’t what Ashe would call the perfect stew, but Caspar chows down on it nonetheless.

“Does it taste alright?” He asks

“Ish sho good!” Caspar replies, mouth full.

“Will you ever learn to swallow before you speak?” Ashe frowns.

Caspar swallows. “Mm, probably not.” He shrugs.   
  


The sunlight is quickly dying out, taking the heat along with it. Ashe looks up as something hard hits his head. It’s rain, freezing rain.

Caspar groans from the other side of the camp. 

“Are you _kidding_ me?” He says.   
  
They both move inside the tent, clipping the door the behind them. Caspar crosses his arms and pouts.   


“I’m already sick of the rain and it just started.” He whines.

This has happened a couple of times, but thankfully Ashe has found a way to distract his friend. He pulls out a deck of cards from one of his bags.

“Shall we?” He asks with a raised brow.

Caspar narrows his eyes. “Okay... but you better not cheat.”

It’s about the 8th round when Caspar gives up. 

“How are you so GOOD??” He nearly yells.

Ashe was quite familiar with playing cards. It started as a fun game to play with his family, and ended with him learning ways to win money. While he did do a lot of cheating back in the day, he usually relies on pure skill now. Though, it’s not hard to beat Caspar, who is about the worst bluffer Ashe has seen in his life. Even Annette was better, and she’s an awful liar.

“Screw this, I’m going to bed.” Caspar quickly removes his upper layers of clothing, pausing when he gets to his undershirt.

“Oh, goddess it’s cold out here.” He states.

Ashe has already removed his outer layer, and has been making himself comfortable on his bedding. “Get under some blankets, then.”   
  


Caspar snakes himself between his bed sheets, still looking rather uncomfortable.   
  


Ashe is so exhausted that he has no issue falling asleep as soon as his head meets the pillow.

There's a shuffling next to Ashe that stirs him from his sleep. He slowly opens his eyes, which certainly do not want to be opened at the moment. It's still quite dark out. Caspar is sitting upright next to him.

Ashe puts a hand over his mouth to mask his yawn. "Caspar?" He says.

Eyes focusing in, he can see the other man is visibly shaking. "Ashe, I'm really cold." 

The way he says it is that of a child telling his parents about a nightmare. 

Ashe sighs quietly, and begins to scoot closer to Caspar. With his hands still wrapped in a blanket, he puts his arms around Caspar's chest.

While this is something he did many times to warm his small, child siblings up, doing to a grown man the exact size as you is... a bit awkward. Pulling away would only make it more weird, so he decides not to think about it. 

It's silent for awhile. Ashe begins to drift to sleep again, his eyelids feeling heavier and heavier, until Caspar speaks again.

"I'm still really cold." He complains.

Caspar breaks apart from Ashe, sitting up once again and opening the flap of the tent. He gasps.

"Ashe it's _snowing."_ He stated.

"Mm hmm, it sure is." He replies, eyes still shut tight.

"There's no way we can sleep in this." Caspar says, gesturing towards the white blanket of frost surrounding the terrain. 

Ashe exhales loudly. "I've done it plenty of times before, we'll be fine."

A gust of air comes through, sending powdery snow inside the tent. 

"C'mon, let's just go rent a room at an inn for the night." Caspar urges

"Caspar, you'll be fine. Just go back to sleep." 

" _No!_ You might be okay with getting frostbite, but I'm definitely not!"

Ashe groans, turning so he can lay on his stomach. It wasn't worth it to argue, especially when he was too drowsy to think straight. "If you're that cold, go ahead. I'm going back to sleep." 

Ashe doesn't have to turn around to know Caspar is scowling at him. The other man begins to shuffle around more, presumably getting dressed. There's another breeze that flows in the tent as he leaves, leaving Ashe all by himself.


	3. Rowe Territory: Part 3

Ashe wakes up with a sore throat. He can’t say he didn’t expect this, he’d acquired many a sore throat from sleeping in the cold. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the dizziness he feels when he sits up.

A cough comes up in this throat, further damaging it. He feels weak.   
He lets his head hit his pillow again, raising the blankets over himself. Maybe more sleep would do him good.   
  


Ashe doesn’t wake up as peacefully this time, instead being shaken by a very concerned looking Caspar.

“What?” He says, voice raspy.

“Ashe, buddy, you look like shit.”

“That’s not very nice.” Ashe replies, frowning.

Caspar sighs, “You know what I mean, you look like you caught the plague.” 

  
“That’s still not the most polite thing to tell a friend, Caspar.” Ashe jokes.

Ashe lets out a violent cough, the kind you can feel deep in your chest. He covers his mouth and sniffs, attempting to hide his sickness.   
“I’ll be fine, I just need a bit more rest”

Caspar blinks. “Ashe... it’s 2 in the afternoon.”

Ashe opens his mouth and closes it, searching his brain desperately for some other reason to justify this behavior.

Caspar slips a hand underneath the other’s body. “I’m taking you to town, so no more arguing.”

“Wait, no, don’t bother with that, I’ll be-“ he starts, before another arm hoists him into the air.

He’s still wrapped in a blanket, but his face is planted into Caspar’s neck.

“Nope! No buts!” Caspar declares, tightening his grip on the commoners legs.

“Caspar-“ he begins, before being hit with the wind from the outdoors. He shivers violently, instinctually gripping onto to the collar of Caspar’s coat. Caspar responds by holding him closer, which is warmer, but also more embarrassing for Ashe.  
  


Ashe just lays there, wordlessly, with his nose pressed against the nape of his companion’s neck.

There’s quite a walk, and Ashe’s racing heartbeat is not helping him get through it. He can’t tell if he has a fever or not, but everything feels hot. He’s been carried away from battle before, but it never feels this... tender? He never had time to think in such a situation like he does now. Caspar’s unusual quietness was only making him overthink things more. 

A gust of wind covers them both in powdery snow. Ashe’s teeth clink together as he shivers. Breathing out here makes his lungs feel cold, almost as if he’s out of oxygen.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” Caspar reassures him, short of breath. 

Ashe mumbles against the other man, still feeling guilty about him having to go through this endeavor.

Ashe realizes they’ve made it when he hears Caspar’s boots make contact with the stone pathway. Had the snow melted here, or did the villagers put down salt in an attempt to melt the ice? Either way, it made Caspar walk considerably faster.

“Whew, finally here!” He declares, still sounding quite winded from the journey. He gives a hardy knock against the door they’ve ended up in front of.

Within a few seconds, a woman in a long dress answers it, ushering them inside.

“It’s awful out!” She says, voice shrill “Your feet might freeze to the ground if you stand in one place for too long!”   
  


Caspar hums in agreement. “My poor buddy here thought he could brace the cold by himself last night! Needless to say, I’m gonna need to book that room for a couple more days, at least.”   
  
“You can set me down now, you know.” Ashe pouts.

Slowly, Caspar brings him to the floor. Ashe feels fine for a second, until a sudden wave of dizziness washes over him, causing him to stumble. Caspar is quick to slip an arm around his waist, offering him support. Cautiously, they walk a few paces to Caspar’s room, and Ashe climbs into his new temporary bed.   
He must admit, a soft bed does feel nice underneath him after all this time. They should stay at inns more, perhaps.

“How are you feeling now?” Caspar asks.

“Mm, still kind of dizzy? A bit sleepy, too.” Ashe responds, rubbing his eyelids.

Caspar takes a step forward. He extends his hand, delicately brushing Ashe’s bangs off of his forehead. He places his palm there.   
  


“Do I have a fever?” He questioned.

Caspar frowns, concentrating. “Well, you feel kinda warm? But my hands are pretty cold so...”

“What do you mean by warm, like, warmer than what my body temperature usually is, or...?”

“Uhh,” Caspar stammers “I’m not sure? I don’t really know anything about this kind of stuff.”

Ashe chuckled. Caspar was the youngest of his family, so it’s no surprise he isn’t used to taking care of others. Especially the sick, he probably had had Linhardt do that on his behalf.   
  


Caspar grazes his fingers across Ashe’s cheek. The tender action makes Ashe stop breathing for a second.

“I think I accidentally bruised your face right here.” Caspar notes.

“Oh.” Ashe says, voice high pitched.

Caspar brings his arms back to his chest, exhaling. “So, you stay here and rest up, and I’ll pack all of our equipment. Might even do some hunting while I’m out there!”   
  


Ashe immediately feels worry build up inside of him. Caspar isn’t known for having organizational skills, most of the time just randomly throwing things on top of one another. With hunting... Caspar is pretty fast, but he lacks the patience to actually wait for a good opportunity, most of the time.   
  


“Are you sure? Surely, we can wait a bit before we do that.” Ashe offers, hoping Caspar can read the concern in his words.  
  


Caspar immediately crushes that hope. “Nope! I’ll get it done today, so you can just take it easy for awhile.”

“But- I mean,” Ashe begins, looking for a proper way to air out his feelings.

Caspar cuts him off, a large, confident, yet obtuse smile on his face. “Don’t sweat it, Ashe! Just relax and let me handle everything!”

Ashe has a feeling that the last thing he’ll consider doing is relaxing.

* * *

It's been a few hours since Caspar left. Ashe has been sleeping on and off, usually awoken by a coughing fit. There's still daylight outside, it reflects off the white sheet of snow, directly into his eyeballs. He looks away, shutting his eyes tightly. Despite the fireplace being lit, and having about 5 different blankets wrapped around him, he still feels chills.

He feels helpless like this. He was going to go stir-crazy if he laid alone in this bed for another 3 hours. He wasn't one to find himself injured, and he had a pretty strong immune system, so this situation was unfamiliar to him. Most of the time, he'd be the one to nurse others back to health. He remembers a particular case in which Caspar had thought it'd be a good idea to throw an axe about 30 yards away at an unsuspecting bandit. In the end, it missed, and he threw out his shoulder doing it. It was a pain to force Caspar to keep his arm in a sling, he wonders how Manuela used to do it back at the monastery.

His thoughts are interrupted when the door to the room is thrown open, causing him to jolt up in surprise. A familiar blue-haired noble peeks his head through the door way, in such a way that Ashe is sure he's hiding something from him.

"Ashe! Look who I got!" He steps inside, holding up a large yellow chicken in his arms.

"Biscuit!" Ashe cries. "How did you catch her?"

Caspar shoots him a wide grin. “Turns out that she can’t run away that fast with snow on the ground.”

The chicken clucks loudly, spreading it’s wings and shaking them, in an attempt to break free.

“You’d better get her to her owner before you lose her again.” Ashe says, a brow raised.   
  


Caspar tightens his grip, situating the bird back into place. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just thought you’d like to see what I managed to do!”

Ashe smiles, “Thank you for that, Caspar.”   
  


Caspar quickly gives his goodbyes, trying his best to keep the angry hen under control. He leaves once more, leaving Ashe alone again.   
  


* * *

Caspar tenaciously grabs Ashe’s arm and shakes it, in an attempt to wake the other man up.   
  


Ashe opens his eyes, blinking rapidly. Looking around him, he can see that the daylight has retreated, being replaced by candlelight. Caspar is kneeling next to him, chin resting on the mattress. He’s quite close, Ashe notices his eyes appear to be more green in this lighting.   
  


“Hey, sleepyhead.” He says, a smile forming on his lips.   
  


Ashe feels his face go red now that they’re in such a close proximity to each other.

“Oh, um, sorry, I must have conked out.”   
  


Caspar laughs as if it’s the best joke he’s heard. “Nah, it’s easy to wake you up at least! I had to resort to dousing Linhardt with water sometimes to wake him up.”

Ashe gives a weak chuckle in response.

Caspar gets onto his feet, dragging a large cast iron pot from the other side of the room to him.   
  


“So, since you can’t cook for us right now, I thought I, could, uh,” He breaks his gaze, looking at the floor, as if embarrassed “y’know, make something to eat.”

He pulls out a bowl, scooping in the liquid from the pot. Ashe sits up, taking the bowl from Caspar’s hands.

“It’s chicken and rice soup!” He explains, “I got the recipe from some lady in the market, so, uh, if it tastes bad, blame her!”

Ashe looks from the soup and then back to Caspar. “You’re sure you returned Biscuit to her owner, correct?”

Caspar raises his brows “What do you mean? Of course I-“ he pauses, eyes widening in realization. “Wait- No, I- I bought the chicken meat from the market!”

It’s Ashe’s turn to laugh now. “Ahaha, I know, I’m just messing with you.”

Caspar pouts angrily. “Just- Try it already, okay?”

Ashe takes a spoonful of the dish to his mouth. He chews slowly, hoping Caspar removed the bones from the chicken this time.

The first thing he notices is that the soup is a bit colder than it probably should be. The second thing is that the carrots are a bit undercooked. The third is that he can not taste one bit of flavor. Not due to a lack of spices, but rather to the fact his sinuses are too clogged to taste anything at this point.

“Hmm, it’s a bit cold, but...” he begins

Caspar is watching him intently, forehead creased in concentration.

“Otherwise, I think it’s good.” He finished. Caspar’s entire expression shifts, a proud smile is plastered onto his face. Ashe was technically lying a bit, but it’s worth it to see Caspar’s excitement.

“Alright! I can just put it by the fire and it should be perfect, right?” He asked, voice giddy. Ashe nods and he drags the pot back to the fireplace. Caspar hums a tune as he stirs the coals, looking for a good spot to set the vessel. Ashe lays back down, smiling. His eyelids are still heavy, but he looks forward to eating the rest of the dish.


End file.
